


An Apology.

by Wayward_Worms



Series: Angst brainworms [3]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Goro trying his best, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Not Beta Read, Suicide Attempt, Unstable Akira, light emetophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:55:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25719172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wayward_Worms/pseuds/Wayward_Worms
Summary: The scream was piercing.Ceramic cups kissed the hardwood floor of Leblanc, Akira coming down next, hands clamped deathly tight over his ears and he screamed his throat raw, tears coming down in streams.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Series: Angst brainworms [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1883593
Comments: 1
Kudos: 161





	An Apology.

**Author's Note:**

> I literally? Have no clue why I struggle with writing anything outside of angst. Like- I have an unfinished NSFW draft that was supposed to be fluffy and extremely scandalous, but? Ofc I made it sad & embarrassing for Akechi lmao.  
> Also, In this universe, The fight with Yaldaboath happened weeks earlier. Akira attempted the big die a day after the fight, the stress being to much for him to handle. Also, obv, but Goro still betrayed the thieves, but they managed to save him from his double, which is why they got to defeating Shido much faster & having him confess quicker than the story makes him confess. They fight Yaldy a few days after Shido confesses. I hope this cleared everything up QwQ

The scream was piercing. 

Ceramic cups kissed the hardwood floor of Leblanc, Akira coming down next, hands clamped deathly tight over his ears and he screamed his throat raw, tears coming down in streams.

It was barely the third day of the New Years _and he couldn’t fucking take it anymore._

There was a rush of bodies that began crowding him, screams and cries erupting from the new found crowd. 

Akira curled in tighter, screaming having died down, but the tears kept falling. He was trying to _get the hell away from them_. 

They were too much. 

All of them. 

Weakly, he sobbed out a _“get the fuck away from me”_ to the new found crowd, still teetering. 

The voices and shadows moved away, worry now heard from a distance. 

Slowly, Akira began unfurling his body, eyes rimmed red, body shaking uncontrollably. Barely lifting his head, he could see the blurry outline of seven worried people, voices low and laced with worry. 

“I said LEAVE.” 

It wasn’t very often he’d scream, let alone curse out the people he considered friends. 

He’d barely been let out of the hospital a day prior with a bag filled with anti-depressants and anxiety meds, the nurses hesitant as they told his guardian he’d need to be with Akira at all times, meaning he’d “temporarily” be residing at the Sakura household as to not try an attempt anything else. 

If it hadn't been for Futaba, he would’ve succeeded the first time.

Pulling his glasses off, Akira wiped at his weepy eyes, cleaning his lenses second, forcing himself not to cringe back into his ball when he heard Leblancs bell ring and two worried sets of footsteps rushing behind the counter.

With his eyes wiped, glasses back in place, Akira was met with two worried gazes. 

One from his guardian, the other from his boyfriend. 

“Are you alright? I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone in the shop.” 

Akira wanted to respond back with _“I wasn’t alone”_ but he whined instead, turning his gaze to the broken mug, dreaming idly of picking the sharp ceramic up, cupping the ceramic in his hands, and then squeezing as tightly as he possibly could. 

Instead, He just blinked, refocusing on Sojiro and Goro. 

“I want them to go away.” He muttered weakly, dragging his legs flush to his chest.

“ ‘cept Futaba and ‘gana.”

Akira could hear the other thieves hushed whispers, questioning in varying degrees of emotion on whether or not they should actually leave. 

It took a moment for Sojiro to get up, glancing down at Akira, before sighing and mumbling something almost inaudible. 

He could hear Sojiro telling the group to wait outside, and that he’d explain the basis of the situation, sans Futaba and Morgana, who had already made themselves comfortable in the middle booth. 

“Are you alright?” Goro. 

Akira inhaled, leaning into his boyfriend's chest.

“Why didn’t you guys let me be.” It was mournful, Akiras shaky hands grabbing pitifully at Akechi’s coat, a new batch of tears falling. 

“I was so close. I was _almost there_.” He began sobbing again, pulling tighter at the wool.

“Why did you guys _save me when I didn’t want to be saved?_ ” It was messy, snot and tears rubbing against the expensive wool coat Akira had bought months previous. 

He grasped helplessly, his entire body trembling. 

“Goro, please… why…” 

But Goro said nothing, the older boy instead wrapping his arms around Akiras trembling frame, laying his chin on top of his head, humming low.

It wasn’t long before the little bells chimed again, indicating that - _hopefully -_ Sojiro had returned. 

Pulling back, Akira peeked over Goros shoulder, glasses once more wet and fogged, the hazy blob that was Sojiro coming into view. 

“Why did you guys save me?” 

His guardian sighed, Akira burying his face into the crook of Goros neck as he heard his guardian's lighter flick.

The cafe was quiet, save for Akiras sniffling. 

Akira hazily remembered that day. Remembered sitting on the couch, empty pill bottles slowly beginning to litter the floor around him. 

He remembered reclining on the couch, only to surge a moment later to vomit, getting his sick all over his pants and shoes. Fitting. He’d suffocate on his own vomit.

He’d remembered fumbling to the floor as the second wave came, his body beginning to spasm slightly. 

By the time the third wave came, he’d been escorted over to Takemis clinic. He’d blacked out from there, waking hours, No, days later, body and throat aching. 

Takemi was the only person in the room when he awoke. Takemi had sighed, striding over to his bed. She asked him questions that he couldn’t answer, his throat raw. 

He’d then been transferred to a bigger hospital, put on suicide watch, and then a monitored psych ward. It had been exhausting, Akira fighting to stay in his room to rest rather than to interact with the others. 

He was, however, dragged forcefully into group meetings, seething the entire time. 

He’d kept quiet, pointing to his throat whenever he was asked to speak, only to receive a sigh. 

The only _true_ upside was the fact he’d been given a soft blanket he carried with him. 

Oh how he desperately wished to be swaddled back in his blanket. 

“I’d like to go back.. to the house. I want to go back.” It was meek, but was understood. 

Goro had helped Akira up, The brunette exchanging quick words with Sojiro, Akira leaning heavily between the bar and Akechi. 

Sojiro just gave a soft shrug, saying that “ _Akiras mental health is more important than a cheap mug.”_

  
  


With Akira now weighing heavily on his side, Akechi hoisted him up further and began guiding the teenager outside the store. Of course the thieves were still outside, worry plastered so thick it was almost oppressive. 

Akira leaned closer to Akechi, a wavering whisper coming out. 

_“I thought they left..”_ Goro just sighed, rounding the corner to the Main Street, pointedly ignoring the thieves. 

“They are. Don’t pay the peanut gallery any mind.” His tone was cold, but affirming. Akira didn’t want any more visitors. Shame that they’re to stupid to understand that. 

“Goro, I’m sorry.. I didn’t mean to… breakdown. I thought I’d be okay.” Akira's breath was hot on his neck, Akechi scowling a bit, still keeping him close. 

“Do you know why you might’ve broke down?” Softly, Akira nodded, body almost seizing as they came to the Sakura household, Akira having to lean his weight against the fence. Nursing his bottom lip between his top teeth, Akira spoke.

“Makoto asked why I was rushed to the hospital a few weeks back, and then someone else, I think Ryuji? Piped in not knowing that I had been admitted at all. He thought I had just taken another two week break from school.” Jostling inside, Akira, wobbling, made it to the stairs, gripping the rail as he moved upwards, Goro two steps behind him. 

“I know they didn’t mean for it to come off as rude, but…” he gulped, slinking against the guest bedroom door. “I wasn't expecting to be bombarded with questions after telling them where I had been.. I love them, but..” 

“It’s not their business.” Reluctantly, Akira agreed with Goro, giving a small nod. 

“This was also the first thing I’ve ever shared with them. They know almost nothing about me, and when I finally do, they crowd in on me and it makes me squirm. I.. I didn’t like the questions… they were all so _personal.”_

Recalling, Makoto had asked after Ryuji, whether mental illness ran in his family, a niche subject, and then prodded to why he had been admitted, the group visibly squirming when he’d told them he tried to commit suicide. 

“They gave me pitying looks. Not to mention, I could practically hear the ‘Akira, you're so much stronger than this’ and you have us.’ On the tips of their tongues, and then… that’s when I broke down.” Pushing off the door, Akira opened it and stepped in, slinking into the messy room. He hadn’t even been ‘home’ for a few days, and it was already a mess. Clothes, empty bottles and cups flung to and fro. Scattered pills sat atop the pristine desk, blood splattered across said desk. The bloody outline of a razor had crusted into the desk from his first day back, Goro obviously hadn’t had time to scrub the desk clean. 

It had been erratic the first day, Akira practically breaking down the moment he got through the door, running into the guest room and locking Goro out. Truthfully, they should’ve cleaned the room out a little better, Akira getting ahold of a pencil sharpener inside the desk and weaseling the blade out.   
  


Akira could remember the way Goro beat on the door, cussing him out, hands trembling as he began to run the blade over his smooth skin.   
In a blur, Akira was pinned to the desk, screaming and biting back at his attacker.   
Goro glared heavily, his grip tightening around Akira’s wrists.   
_“are you trying to get admitted again?_ ” He sneered, tears amidst. Akira trembled, crying out.   
  


Shaking his head, he slumped onto the messy bed, Akira curled into a ball, whimpering at Goro, pleading the elder boy to snuggle up with him. He sighed, kicking his shoes off, Akira lazily following suit, as Goro crawled next to him. 

“They’ll understand sooner rather than later, that you still need your space. I may not… find them favorable, but I know you hold them close. Tell them that you need more time to yourself to heal from everything that’s happened. I’m sure they’ll want to hear that. And, if any of them have any further questions, direct them to Boss. I’m sure he’ll be more than glad to turn them down. It’s your choice, after you begin to feel better, whether you want to share what happened. It’s not their place to butt in.” Huffing, Goro wrapped his arms around Akiras waist, pulling him flush to his body. 


End file.
